


Talk To Me

by WelcomeToTrash



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Bicurious! Justin Foley, Bryce is an asshole, Bullying, F/F, Finally, Gay! Alex Standall, Justin is an asshole in the beginning, Justin realizes Bryce is a dickbag, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rape/Non-con Elements, Speech Disorders, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, That doesn't happen until later though, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-06-22 15:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15585063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelcomeToTrash/pseuds/WelcomeToTrash
Summary: Justlex AU.Alex has a bad speech impediment that causes him to be bullied. He believes he gets his big break when his family moves and he begins at Liberty High School. One day, Alex runs into Justin Foley in the hallway, and a whole new level of hell ensures. Mr. Standall, who is the new school guidance counselor, notices something is off with his son, but just doesn't know what. What will happen to Alex at this new school?—Slow Updates—





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first 13RW fic, and it's also my first fic in a while. (Writer's block is a bitch.) Creative criticism is appreciated. Enjoy chapter one.

_“We-ed!” Sigh. “No, Alex, ‘red.’ Try again, sweetheart.”_

_"Say ‘knight’ buddy. Come on, you can do it.” Giggle. “L-light!” Sigh. “Not quite, Alex.”_

_“Alex, come on. Mom and dad are waiting.” Shuffling. “I’m c-coming, bwotew.” Sigh. “Brother, Alex. Brother.”_

_“You can’t play here unless you do the monkey bars, w-w-w-wimp.” Sniffle. “B-but tey’we sc-scawy.” Laughs. “He can’t even talk right!”_

_“We have a new student today. Would you like to introduce yourself, Alex?” Deep breath. “U-umm . . . hi. M-m-my name i-is Al-ex. Laughs. “Learn to talk, freak!”_

_As long as Alex could remember, he was never able to talk like everyone else. He just couldn’t seem to get some of the letters out right. When he does speak, he has to stop in the middle of some of the words to make sure they sound right; a stutter. At first, it wasn’t a big deal. As long as Mommy, Daddy and Peter could understand him, he couldn’t care less. Then, though, he started school. Alex learned very quickly that little kids can be really mean, and big kids can be even meaner. In Elementary school, it was just little kids calling him weird and trying to rub boogers in his hair, but as time progressed it turned into more. Freshman year was the worst. That was the year he would get beat up on the walk to school, the year his gym clothes got stolen every day, the year he would find weird pills in his food and drinks. The year nothing was done no matter how much he reported it. (We can’t understand the damn kid, anyway! How the hell are we supposed to know he’s telling the truth!)_

_Alex got his big break when his family moved to a different state. From then on, Alex would attend Liberty High School. He was ecstatic. This was a chance to start over, a chance to—possibly, even—have friends. It became apparent on his first day he may not make as many friends as he thought. The students of Liberty High were hardened to the core, and every glance in your direction was full of uttar despise. Walking down the hall was equivalent to rushing into war. Everybody seemed like a ticking time bomb. Or, so it seemed that way. Alex was proved correct when he bumped into a pretty-boy jock on his way to Piano/Keyboard I._

_‘Everything will be fine,’ Alex thought to himself. ‘Just make it through one last class. After that, you can go home and play Guitar Hero while blaring Joy Division.’ With his mindset, Alex attempted to make his way through the crowd. When walking the halls of Liberty High School, one’s head must be kept low, and one must expect the unexpected. One’s feet must be light, ready to jump out of the path of sex-deprived seniors. One must walk as close to the middle of the hall as possible, as it lessens the chances of being shoved in a locker. One can never be prepared, though, to be shoved into Justin Foley._

_Upon collision, Alex fell to the ground while Justin stood firmly in place. It seemed as though not even a hair on his head was moved out of place. Alex glanced up at the chiseled jawline on the boy that stood before him, slowly trying to scrape himself off the dusty school floors. Seeming to realize he the blond may need some help, Justin extended his hand towards Alex. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry,” He mocked with a smirk._

_Alex smacked his hand away. Just his luck. Of course this (admittedly, kind of cute) guy would be a douchebag. ”You sure you’re alright?” Alex sent a death glare in his direction._

_“Can you talk?” Justin’s voice was sickly sweet. “Or are you just shy, sweetheart?”_

_Alex huffed and rolled his eyes._

_“What?”_

_“I can ta-talk, assh-h-hole.”_

_Justin laughed a menacing laugh._

_“Yo, guys, get a load of this. The kid can’t fucking talk!”_

_The infamous Bryce Walker strolled over. Everything about Bryce—from his walk to his malevolent smirk—was so forcibly laid back that Alex could feel the waves of despise radiating from his own skin. This kids arrogance could be sniffed out from a mile away._

_“What, can the baby-waby not talky-talky?” He taunted miserably._

_“Fffuck o-off.”_

_“See you around, freakshow,” Bryce said, laughing, then shoved Alex back down to the ground. Alex sighed. Not only did he have newly-found tormenters, but he would be late to his class._

_Alex rushed home after school that day. He decided riding home with his father, the new guidance counselor at the school, would only lead to a “talk about their feeeeeelings.” Alex didn’t want that._

_By the time he arrived home, he wasn’t in the mood for Guitar Hero nor Joy Division. Alex laid on his bed, staring up at his plain, white ceiling, and trying to discover some way to fly through the roof and away from his problems. When Alex didn’t come down for dinner, his brother, Peter, walked into his room to find him asleep. Alex slept through the night without any night terrors and slept through the first and second periods (Geometry and Academic History) the following morning._

_'Oh,' Alex thought to himself, 'this school year is gonna be fun.'_


	2. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very happy with this chapter, but oh well. Enjoy.

   Alex groaned as he awoke. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and squinted toward the cable box at the front of his beige-colored room. 5:38 a.m. Alex sighed and rolled onto his left side. He didn’t have to be awake for nearly an hour, and he knew there was no way he’d be getting back to sleep. He stood from his bed, his blanket falling and covering his feet. 

   Alex stumbled into the bathroom with his clothing for that day in his arms. After he had showered, Alex walked downstairs and turned on the TV with a click. Alex was supposed to do Speech Therapy before doing anything that wasn’t mandatory—showering, eating, etc.—but he had given up on that years ago. It just never seemed to work, regardless of the program, the intensity, the amount of time he spent, it never worked. He still stuttered and he still couldn’t make the goddamn letters sound the way they were supposed to. 

   School started at 8. Alex always left at 7 so he could arrive before everyone else. Since Alex awoke early that day, he figured he could go over to Hannah’s house. Hannah was the only friend Alex had at school. While Hannah’s girlfriend, Jessica, was nice to him, you could tell it was mostly because she felt she didn’t have a choice. Alex didn’t care, though. He was just glad he could rely on two people to not call him a faggot and shove him in the lockers at school. The thin boy got in his car and began his trip. (Alex used to get asked all the time how he could drive. Just because he couldn’t talk didn’t mean he couldn’t push a pedal and turn a steering wheel, for fuck's sake.) 

   It took fifteen minutes to drive to Hannah’s house. It was likely that Jessica would have spent the night, and it was even more likely that they were still sleeping. Alex entered the house and crept up the aged, wooden steps. Mr. and Mrs. Baker worked the night shift at the local hospital downtown and didn’t get home until 7:30, so Alex didn’t have to worry about getting caught by them. Alex carefully opened Hannah’s bedroom door and peeked inside. As he had suspected, Jessica had stayed the night. The two were cuddled in the bed, Hannah’s arms around Jessica’s torso, and Jessica’s face was shoved in Hannah’s neck. Alex thought they were adorable. It was blatantly obvious they were made for each other. 

   Hannah and Jessica were the only known lesbian couple at school. Because of this, they often times were the center of negativity and cat-calling—you wouldn’t believe how many high schoolers get off to the image of a lesbian couple. Most of the time the two were too distracted by each other to even notice it. Alex wished he could just not notice the harsh names like they did. 

   Alex crept over to the side of the bed and sucked in a deep breath. “W-wake up, fuc-ckers!” He exclaimed with a smile spread across his face. Hannah shot up and glared and Alex and Jessica jumped.

   “What the hell, Alex!” Hannah shrieked. “What are you doing here?” 

   “I’m go-gonna kidn-ap you a-and kee-ep you in-n my-y bas-semen-n-nt.” Alex said with a smirk.

   Hannah mumbled resentfully under her breath while Jessica stood from the bed. She looked at Alex dumbfounded for a moment before tiptoeing to the bathroom. Hannah huffed before also standing up. 

   “You’re lucky you’re my friend, asshole.”

   Alex chuckled, “L-love you to-oo.”

   Hannah and Jessica both got dressed while Alex looked around Hannah’s room. She had light purple walls with white Christmas lights strung from the ceiling. Her bed was a queen-sized bed with a blue and purple blanket and light green sheets. Leaning against the wall, there was a full-length mirror that was covered with pictures (mostly of herself and Jessica, but there was one of Alex standing next to at the local fair over the summer.) Hannah also had a few posters from miscellaneous bands and TV shows hanging randomly on the walls. 

   When the two girls returned, they plopped on Hannah’s bed. An hour of grins, laughs, Monopoly and throwing popcorn passed before the three drove off in Hannah’s car, minutes before her parents arrived home. They arrived at school and split to go to their respective classes. Alex walked hurriedly to his locker, wanting to get to his locker and class before he ran into the jocks. Unfortunately, Alex was not that lucky. As he turned the corner, Alex spotted the jocks leaning against the wall, laughing and shoving each other right across the hall from his locker. Bowing his head, the blond-haired boy walked swiftly forward, wishing to be invisible. Alex had his locker open and was reaching into his backpack for his textbooks when the locker was slammed shut. 

   “Hey, Alex,” Justin taunted in a sickly-sweet voice. 

   “What’s up, buddy,” Bryce added in, creeping up behind him. 

   Alex glared at the floor. At this rate, he would be late to class. 

   Attempting to ignore the taunting, the paler boy grabbed his Algebra II textbook out of his bag, only to have it slapped out of his hand. The 500-page textbook hit the ground with a booming thud that echoed throughout the hallway. The blond flinched slightly at the noise, and the two brunettes smirked evilly. 

   “What’s wrong, Alex? Are you a little scared?” Bryce shoved Alex into Justin, who, in turn, pushed Alex back into Bryce. Alex fruitlessly tried to escape the vigorous cycle, only to be shoved to the floor by Justin. Bryce snickered and kicked Alex in the side, causing Alex to yelp. Justin smirked and watched as Bryce continued to kick Alex in the abdomen and face. Alex groaned, wondering what he had done to deserve this at every school he attended. 

   Eventually, the two became bored of Alex and left, walking right out of the school. Justin glanced back at the younger, unbeknownst to the pained boy on the ground. Alex got up with the support of the wall of lockers, feeling the bruises begin to bloom across his pale skin. Alex dragged himself home with great effort, silent tears of pain cascading down his face. Somehow no one had seen what had happened in the hallway, and Alex would never tell. It would only make things worse. 

   Alex’s father would be infuriated when he learned his son had skipped school. He would also know Alex got beat up. He was the Guidance Counselor, after all, and wouldn’t believe some petty excuse.

   Upon plopping on the couch in his living room, Alex received a text from Hannah. It read: ‘Skip chem? Where r u?’

‘Skipping rest of day. Explain later.’ Alex replied. 

Alex didn’t get a reply. And Alex didn’t text her back. 

  
  
  
  


 


	3. 2 (Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's been so long; I've been really busy. I'm also sorry this chapter is so short. The next one will be longer.
> 
> TW: Lead up to rape
> 
> READ THE NOTE AT THE END

With every blooming bruise that appeared on Alex’s ribs, another flower died in the chilling weather outdoors. The October air was thin. Mist covered the grass and reflected the rays of the young sun. The aroma of pumpkin and crispness began to fill the air around town as Halloween and its accompanying skeletons and ghouls crawled near. Excitement buzzed through the air like electricity the closer the holiday came. 

Alex had given up on Trick-Or-Treating long ago. Adults can be just as cruel (if not even crueler) than children. He usually arrived home with half as much candy as other children his age, simply because he had trouble saying “Trick or Treat!” The young child had learned very quickly that life was discriminatory; if you weren’t like every other kid, you did not belong, and they made sure you knew it. 

All Alex wanted to do that Halloween was hang out with Jessica and Hannah and eat chocolate until they passed out. Jessica was always sociable, desperate to be at every party and always down for a strong drink, and Hannah was willing to follow Jess anywhere. Alex already knew he was pathetic; he did not want to seem more so. That’s how he ended up at Tyler Down’s house on the 31st, sitting in the corner (literally) while his only two friends were nowhere to be found. This was the first party Tyler Down had hosted. His parents were out of town for the weekend and had accidentally forgotten to lock the wine cabinet. As any other intelligence-lacking baseball player, he decided to call up everyone in his contacts, promising booze and loud music at his house. The scrawny boy was actually quite good at the sport, considering Alex had never seen him do anything athletic.    

It was when Alex was pondering how pissed Hannah would be if he took the car and went home that Bryce Walker, drunk off his ass and followed closely by none other than Justin Foley and Zach Dempsey, stumbled in front of Alex, a can of Bud Light dangling loosely from his fingertips. 

“Hey there, Standall,” Stuttered the football and baseball player. He swayed a bit. “Here’s the deal.

“None of us have had a good piece of ass in weeks, and, well, we’re teenage boys, you see. We have a lot of, uh . . . stamina, per say.” The three drunk boys smirked. “And for some reason, no girls here wanna fuck us. So you’re going to.”

Alex knows it takes him a long time to get words out, and he knows he does not have time right now. He sprung up, barely dodging drunk teenagers grinding on each other. The boy ran fast, but not fast enough. Bryce grabbed his arm, placing his rough palm over Alex’s mouth. Alex was dragged upstairs and shoved into an unoccupied room, Zach locking the door. Justin, the kind and loving soul he is, kicked Alex in the ribs as the boy made an attempt to stand. Alex groaned, clutching his ribs. Bryce watched as Zach and Justin grabbed Alex by his arms and dragged him onto the queen-sized bed, the blond boy kicking and screaming to no avail. No one could hear him. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will have graphic descriptions of rape. Please don't jeopardize your mental health because of my stupid story. Stay safe. :)


	4. 2 (Part Two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING
> 
> This chapter contains elements of rape and suicide. Don't read this chapter (or, better off, the rest of this story) if you are triggered by these things. Be safe, everybody. 
> 
> National Sexual Assult Hotline: 1-800-656-HOPE (4673)
> 
> S.A.F.E. (Self Abuse Finally Ends): 1-800-DONT-CUT
> 
> Suicide Hotline: 1-800-SUICIDE (784-2433) OR 1-800-273-TALK (8255)
> 
> For additional hotlines (some only available in Pennsylvania), visit http://www.pleaselive.org/hotlines/

Alex wanted to be anywhere but here; his back pressed into the mattress below him, surrounded by three teenage boys with athletic levels far above what the blond will ever have, alcohol replacing every drop of blood in their body, hands both unexpected and unwanted finding their way to his belt, to his shirt, to his face, to his _everywhere_ and Alex just wanted everything to _stop._ Stop. Stop. St _op. Stop—_

“ _Stop_!” Gasped the boy, the boy with short, blond hair. The boy who was begged to attend the party only to be abandoned by the only two people he felt he could truly count on. The boy who has been treated like shit his whole life. The boy who was about to be raped.

_“Ple-ea-ase! Pl-e—”_

Alex was cut off by simultaneous, unwanted entrances in both his mouth and lower-region. It wasn't the first time Alex had wished for death, but it was the most prominent.

* * *

 

Alex drove home alone, not giving a shit about anything at that point, let alone Hannah or Jessica. He was pissed. He was pissed at the world, at Hannah and Jessica, at his rapists, at his parents for ever having him, and at himself. He was absent-minded. His body ached. He was numb, yet overflowing with emotions. He pulled into the driveway to his house at 3 A.M. and snuck in through the back door, limping his way through his pitch-black house. He didn’t want to see another bed at that moment, even though it wasn’t the same one. He made his way into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. The poor boy knew he was close to a mental breakdown, and he didn’t want to risk anyone in his family seeing him as he finally hit his breaking point. He slid down the door and let out a sob as he hit the floor.

The back of Alex’s mind was yelling at him to be quiet, but he couldn’t help the loud sobs that escaped his throat. He wrapped his arms around his thin legs, burying his face into his knees. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t do anything but hope the world would stop spinning. He faintly heard a knock on the door behind him, but he couldn’t process what it meant. He heard a slight bang and jolted forward, closer to the sink. Closer to where they keep the razors.

“Alex, honey?” his mother's voice cut through, foggy. “Are you okay, dear?” Alex felt bad for waking her, and he felt a rush of thought he had buried deep in his mind. He was a disappointment to his family. His brother was a strait-A student and was getting a business degree at some high-end college. His father was a school Guidance Counselor. His mother was a nurse. He was barely a C student and _couldn’t even talk right._ He knew what he had to do, what he wanted to do; he just had to will his body to actually move forward to do so.

“Alex. You’re scaring your mother. What are you doing in there?” His father’s voice spoke, muffled by the door and Alex’s thoughts.

Alex’s had reached forward and opened the cupboard, grabbing a razor encased in plastic. He shoved the metal part of the plug for his mom’s hair drier into the razor, hands shaking due to his body-wracking sobs. He pried the razor open, one of the flimsy blades falling out and bits of plastic scattering all over the floor.

“Alex, you better not be drunk in there.”

“Alex, honey, please tell me what’s wrong.”

Alex picked up the thin metal blade and held it to the thin skin of his arm. He sliced vertically on his left arm, spanning from arm fold to wrist.

By the time his father had become impatient enough to break the door down, Alex was passed out, blood pooling on the floor around him and soaking into his shirt. Alex’s mother screamed, and a few minutes later, an ambulance was rushing to their house, desperate to attempt to save the dying boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this chapter too cliche? Did I contradict anything previously stated in this story? Feel free to let me know and give me criticism in the comments!
> 
> Also, I'm sorry this is short and that it's been so long since I updated. I've been busy with high school and I've had writer's block. As I'm typing this author's note, it is 11:38 P.M. EST.


	5. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex in the hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is shit, but so am I so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Alex awoke to a constant  _ beep _ that irked him relentlessly. His arm ached, his head pounded, and his stomach growled. The bright lights shining in his eyes were giving him a migraine from hell. 

 

Then, he grew angry. The blonde had wanted to die, had made his decision, was ready; his parents decided to take that away from him. The insufferable people who had birthed him into his pathetic life in this cruel world, had refused to let him leave it. He seethed. He grabbed the vase that resided by his uncomfortable bedside, housing flowers of pinks, blues, greens and yellows and stating the unbearable, verbally ironic statement of: “Get well soon!” His arm drew back, powering up, ready to launch the translucent glass vase clear into the cement wall perpendicular to the way he was facing. He squinted, took aim and . . . put the vase down. In a moment, all his anger had vanished, and all that was left was a metaphorical hole in his chest and a faint cloud of sob-inducing, gut-wrenching cloud of depression that consumed him. 

 

Alex pawed at his face as he heard footsteps approaching, hoping to clear any evidence of stray tears that may have ventures down his pale, sunken cheeks. In walked a nurse who looked to be around forty five with slightly wrinkled skin and hair of a darker blonde shade that was beginning to gray a bit. Her voice held a slight southern accent and was friendly, yet firm. 

 

“Hello, Honey. How are you feeling?” 

 

“F-Fine.” 

 

“Good, good. You were out for quite a while. You had the doctor wondering if you would wake up or not.” 

 

A brief silence filled the room. 

 

“Your parents were here with you just earlier today. Your mother, the poor dear, was cryin’ so much I'm s’prised she hasn't dehydrated.”

 

Alex glanced at the nurse, only to look away.

 

“And your father, poor fella, he's pining the whole thing on ‘imself. Saying how he's ‘a school counselor, for Christ sakes!’ and should have seen it coming, and so on and so forth.” 

 

Alex kept his gaze stubbornly away.

 

“I don’ mean to make you feel guilty, dear. I jus’ wanna let you know that there are people who care, even if ya don’ think so.”

 

“I k-know!” Alex snapped.

 

The room was quiet for as the nurse looked over him with pitying eyes. She set two white pills next to a cup of water on the bedside table. 

 

“Here are some painkillers, Hon. If ya need anything, just press this lil’ red button,” she pointed to it, “and I'll be right over. Ma name's Nurse Amber.”

 

Nurse Amber quickly switched out Alex's dwindling IV bag for a fresh one, then left the bleak hospital room. Alex looked over to where the thin, eraser-sized pills lay. He popped both in his mouth and, with hands shaking slightly, swallowed them down with a gulp of ice water. Just the action of sitting up and taking pills had exhausted Alex. His pillow tempted him, and as he laid his head on the crinkly hospital pillow, his eyes closing slowly, he could’ve sworn he saw one Justin Foley walking into his room. Alex chalked it up to his mind playing tricks on him and fell into a dreamless slumber. 

 

He was wrong. 

  
  
  
  


When Alex awoke, words were being thrown around between his doctor and his parents. Nurse Amber was changing his bandages, trying to distract him from the conversation outside the ghostly-colored door with light conversation. 

 

“Did those painkillers help at all?”

 

Alex nodded.

 

“Good, good.”

 

There was a pause. 

 

“Oh! I jus’ remembered; a young man ‘round your age was here earlier. Wanted me ta give ya this letter and says he’s sorry.” 

 

Alex was handed the letter and he stared at it, dumbfounded.

 

“Well, hon, your vitals are good. You'll be ‘ere another week on suicide watch because ‘f protocol. Call me if you need anything, honey.”

 

“Wha—” Alex began, but Nurse Amber was already gone. 

 

Alex glanced at the letter.

 

_ Standall, _

 

_ Meet me at Monet's. Next Monday. 6:30.  _

  
  
  
  


_ I'm sorry. _

 

_ -Justin  _

 

Next Monday. It was Thursday. He'd be out in time.

 

“ _ S-shit.” _

  
  
  



End file.
